


A Tale of Destiny and War

by Aalvina



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Journalism, M/M, Minor Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Retelling, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22791115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aalvina/pseuds/Aalvina
Summary: A retelling of the Witcher in a universe where Geralt is a captain in the U.N army, Jaskier is a war reporter. And this is what happened.Follows events of the geraskier episodes of season 1 and expend after
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	1. Four Marks

**Author's Note:**

> So here is an AU I've been working on. Hope you like it.  
> I won't name any country where conflicts happens because I don't know the socio-political landscape to even attempt such a thing. Just know I vaguely put the conflicts in the Middle East, Africa or the Balkan. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this modern retelling of the show

It was a small bar in a city away from the conflit. Lots of military people came and went, some locals rejected them, others lived with them as best as they could. And then there was Jaskier, reporter where no one wanted him, he became an independant in his profession since no journal agreed with his « method » of just picking a zone of war and living there, taking pictures along the way to shake politics and mentality when he published them. Jaskier... wasn't loved around there, locals thought he relished in their suffering, military thought he was either a spy or would blame them for everything. Politics, well, Jaskier may or may not have brought a few scandals upon some malevolent politicians. Not that anyone could prove it.

So when the young man entered the bar he expected the general glares thrown his way, yet he ignored them and caught sigh of a hidden figure in a corner and thought he recognized the silhouette. He sauntered toward the lonely man, ignored the death glare thrown his way and took a seat in front of him.

“Geralt of Rivia, captain of the United Nations, what a pleasure to meet you!”

“I drink alone.” was all the answer he got but it only made Jaskier smile more.

“Oh come on! I know about you, I have pictures of you, I was there when the building collapsed two weeks ago. You were quite the savior.”

“You're the only one thinking that, 12 people died.”

“And three were saved. People blamed you because of that lovely fair skin and military garb. People tend to blame westeners for the whole... situation here.”

“And you don't?” asked Geralt.

“I tell stories, blame is not mine to give.”

Geralt grunted disbelieving the objectivity of the man.

“Anyway, I've been trying to get to the capital and your lovely comrades tend to stop me without a permit. “

“It's the rule.” shrugged Geralt.

“Well yes, it is. I've been thinking that a captain could maybe help me, I might have heard you're going there. I could tag along.”

“No.”

“As much as I love a good haggle, I do feel you're not open to that.”

“I am not.”

“Well let me convince you for a bit. You'll have to cross two cities before reaching the capital, one is protected by French military, the second by russian and the locals all speak arabic. I'm gonna guess your lovely accent comes from Britain, I myself am Greek! I live everywhere really, though I have a flat in Madrid right now. I'm fluent in Greek, English, Spanish and French. My arabic is getting better by the day. My russian ain't perfect but it does the job.”

He finished with a huge smile on his face.

* * *

“Shut up”.

“I wasn't talking.” grumbled Jaskier.

“Shut up anyway.” grunted Geralt. Here they were, tied to one another, back to back. Geralt had to admit, the reporter had been useful in the russian occupied city but their duo got frowns of suspicion from evert U.N military they saw and Geralt feared he would be investigated for his association with a reporter. If they survived, currently, rebels were back in the room ready to get them to pay for all westeners did or did not do for them.

Geralt had tried to focus most of their aggressivity on him, it was still his job to protect civilians, even those who threw themselves in the danger. He grunted as punches rained on him and Jaskier kept screaming and insulting the assailliants, because that would make them stop.

“What is happening here?!” shouted a voice and a man came in, dressed slightly better than the others, but still in cheap clothing. He forced the woman who had been beating Geralt to get away and kneeled in front of Geralt.

“You're Fila Vandrel. You're their chief.” Geralt recognized him from some intel they had gotten.

“They know you ! It's dangerous we should kill them.” said the woman.

“Ooooooh nonononono. No need for any killing promise. We're very good at keeping secret. Right Geralt?” begged Jaskier.

“You can kill me if you want. I'm ready.” said Geralt and Jaskier moaned, letting his head fall forward which tugged at Geralt through the bonds.

“I'm not going to kill you captain.” said Fila. “You're with the United Nation, he's a journalist. Killing you would help the narrative your people impose on mine.”

“So we just let them go?!” asked another man angrily.

“Geralt of Rivia, you helped civilians, and you Julian Pankratz, you're a reporter. Report then, tell the truth.” he cut the ropes and grabbed Jaskier by the arm to force him down the stairs while Geralt shouted but was pinned down by two armed guards.

Jaskier thought for sure he was going to die but instead was brought in a small room, stench making him gag and he looked upon wounded gathered in a makeshift hospital. He looked up to Fila Vandrel who gave him a camera, when he switched it on he saw hundreds of photos depicting the horror of war, such rawness Jaskier could never be able to witness.

“You can help right?” asked Fila again.

“I can try.”


	2. Of Banquets Bastards and Burials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all those who commented.   
> I hope you like this chapter. The modern retelling can be a bit tough. 
> 
> I have planned what happens next and fluff WILL ensue. Just bear with me, I need them to get there.

Geralt's phone pinged with a new notification, it was from Jaskier. This was not new, the man kept sending him texts all the time since they last saw each other months ago. Geralt _could_ just block the man, he tried for a while but the reporter very quickly used another number to call Geralt and started pestering him, thinking Geralt had been kidnapped or mugged. And though Geralt acted as though it was annoying, which it was, it also awoke something in him he was not used to feeling. The mere idea that someone could mug him was ludicrious, as Jaskier said later, and yet the man had been worried and Geralt in all his grumpiness did not want the reporter to worry. So he just silenced the apps where Jaskier would keep sending him many texts.

This time however, Jaskier sent him a message directly on his phone and not an app so Geralt was a bit surprised and curious. He opened the message and frowned, it was a picture with several newsreport about the reality of war Jaskier had done several papers on. The picture focused on reports where Geralt's “heroics” where praised, a consequence of Jaskier deciding to embellish the image of Geralt and ONU military alike.

Geralt was about to turn his phone off when another message displayed on his screen.

_**So, I saved your reputation. It deserves a compensation of sort don't you think?** _

Geralt did not even try to answer knowing the reporter would soon continue.

**_I mean I worked hard on these reports, risked my life, and helped your with my many linguisitic skills ;)_ **

Maybe Geralt could ask for a secure line from his superiors, he could lie and say he was followed by ancient war ennemies. He actually considered it for a long moment when he saw the smiley but also knew the lie would mean many interviews and him being shipped away to a “secure location.” So Geralt relented and waited for the next text.

**_My dear friends, I ask for very little, I offer mainly. Your company to a lush evening. Fine alcools from the finest vineyards in the world, the most tasteful and delicate food you can dream of and music to soothe the most tormented of souls..._ **

Geralt just grunted, a passer-by jumped at the sound but Geralt did not even notice it and texted back a short concise :

_**Cut it out! What do you want?** _

The answer came so fast, Geralt realized Jaskier was probably smiling in front of his phone for having succeeded in making him answer.

**_French Embassy charity dinner for the refugees. I must go and report on the politics behind the ugliness I unvieled. And I may encounter some... unfriendly faces._ **

Geralt sighed.

**_You want me to act as a bodyguard because you pissed off politicians._ **

It wasn't even a question. By now Geralt knew he would help the man, even if it annoyed him. Jaskier kept sending several texts, either arguing it was not his fault people were “touchy” and that Geralt would enjoy the party and just be his “natural scary self”.

So they went.

* * *

Jaskier was quite proud of himself, not only he got Geralt to come with him but he managed to dress the man in a very beautiful and smart ensemble that would certainly turn several heads. His included. Jaskier had been sensible enough not to put any colors on Geralt (he cared for his life) so Geralt was the dark brooding companion to his colouful elegant ensemble.

Jaskier might love a good party like anyone else but he cringed when they were welcomed in a lush room, soft canapes and flutes of crystal being handed to them. Weirdly enough, Geralt did not clash with the scenery like Jaskier had thought. The man accepted the drinks and food with a gentle grunt and looked well-put in the middle of all this extravaganza.

Jaskier remembered too cruelly the horrors of war, and from what he knew of Geralt, he was sure the man thought the same seeing these politicians put on a smiling face to “save the refugees” they refused to welcome in safer territory and when they were often responsible for the destruction of their home countries.

The night went on and Jaskier started to let go of his resentment of politicians after a few congratulated him for his quality journalist work, ignoring the eye-roll Geralt sent him.

Geralt had left a while ago and was talking with a young couple, a pregnant woman and her husband Jaskier recognized as Pavetta and Duny, the U.K parlementarian and her husband. She was known for standing against the political heritage from her mother, Calanthe, a fierce woman and retired general who had the bad habit of thinking in war before considering peace.

Pavetta had challenged this point of view, she was a fine strategist from her mother but used her knowledge to stop the conflits. Jaskier had been so focused on observing them that he failed to see the drunk Minister of New Energies from Italia coming his way, anger in his eyes. Suddenly Jaskier remembered a very cutting article he wrote on the hypocrisy of the man's plan for the future by revealing his involvement in petroleum exploitations in at war contries. So, maybe Ex-Minister of New Energies was more accurate.

“I can't believe you would show your face here, half this room has been the victim of your incessant snopping and digging of old stories. You would do anything to sell newspaper!” he spat Jaskier and really, his breath was horrible. Before the man could began to lift a fist, though, a large hand landed on his shoulder and Geralt appeared right behind him. Geralt height was enough to intimidate many but he then leaned and whispered something to the man who looked highly incomfortable and huffed away.

Geralt turned to Jaskier and offered him a wolfy smile.

“I did my duty, my debt is payed.” he declared and walked away while Jaskier was left alone in a corner, very perplexed.

Jaskier tried to follow Geralt on the other side of the room when a loud crash was heard, he turned to see a waiter falling on the ground, crystal glass broken in thousand pieces. But, more frightening was the woman and man, guns in their hands, running toward the assembly of politicians from all over the world. Panick errupted, Jaskier jumped behind a pillar as the first salve of gunshot errupted, he saw the Turkish ambassador being quickly escorted away with the French Prime Minister. Jaskier took deep breathes to calm his raging heart and saw a woman, a politician from Poland looking at him and matching his breathing pattern. He tried to smile in reassurance and slowly turned to look at what enfolded in the room.

* * *

Geralt had jumped and used a table to protect himself from the first gunshot, he quickly scanned the room, people were running away from the chaos that ensued. Not authorised to carry his own gun he launched to grab one from a dead bodyguard.

He heard a scream and saw Pavetta holding her pregnant belly as she crouched on the ground, her leg bleeding heavily. Geralt jumped away from his hiding place and shot twice at the attackers, he heard the man yelp and knew he had injured one.

Duny was trying to help his wife, Geralt kneeled in front of them and took his jacket off, riping the clothe in bandage of sort.

“Give me your belt.” he ordred Duny who nodded and did as told. Geralt wrapped the belt above the gunshot wound on Pavetta's leg. He tightened it and instructed to Duny to wrap her wound with the ripped jacket.

Geralt took a deap breath before getting up. The female terrorist was yelling and shotting people already on the ground, from the corner of his eyes, Geralt saw Jaskier hidden behind a pillar, way too close to the terrorist. So Geralt shoot, at first he aimed for her knees but she quickly turned to him and aimed at his head so Geralt cocked his gun and the woman fell dead on the ground seconds later. Safe from injury, Geralt got up to assess the situation when he realized the male terrorist was not on the ground where he shot him. A scream of despair and a distinct garggle of blood had him turn quickly to where Duny had shielded his wife from the terrorist knife which had plunged right in his heart.

Geralt raised his gun and shot before rushing to the dying Duny.

* * *

Jaskier met Geralt later at the hospital, with nothing but small cuts on his hands, Jaskier had been discharged very quickly, he searched for Geralt and found him, waiting at Pavetta's bed.

“How is she?” he asked slowly.

“Physically? Her baby is okay but the bone in her leg was badly injured, she probably will never walk without a cane. If she's lucky.”

Jaskier stayed silent, he just sat next to Geralt.

“She lost her husband, she's a young widow expecting a child. I should have stopped that.”

“Geralt, you did your best! You saved her!”

Jaskier tried to have him see reason but Geralt just shook his head, tired he got up and left Jaskier to watch over Pavetta for a while.

He grabbed some food at the cafeteria and got out to breathe some fresh air. He grabbed his phone and opened his bank app, planned a montly transfer to Pavetta. Jaskier would analyse this too much, Geralt just wanted to help the woman he felt he failed to protect, he also needed to soothe the guilt in him. This helped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it !
> 
> Kudos and Comments are the life of writers ;)


	3. Bottled Appetites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the ... 6 months wait :(  
> Life got... complicated and I just couldn't find the time or motivation to write. 
> 
> There's very few people reading this fic so thank you so much to all of you reading, leaving kudos and comments !
> 
> I have it all planned, I will try to update faster.

From all the things Geralt had to fight against, insomnia was the worse, his mind working non stop and refusing to let him rest. He was in a hotel in the closest city to the current conflict. Civil wars where the worse, no sides to take, just try to stop people from dying. His mission was to meet with one of the side in this war and arrange a safe route for evacuation of civilians and injured people to the city where he was right now. Code name : Djinn. As if they were fullfilling anyone wishes in this hell. Geralt did not regret choosing his profession but it was taxing in feeling helpless and hated most of the time. And Geralt couldn't sleep, he knew his hierarchy would stop him if they knew how bad his ptsd got lately but he had a mission and delaying it would mean dozens to hundreds of death.

With this mindset, Geralt pushed through his limits and spend one more sleepless night and decided to go out and patrol to occupy his mind. The nights were quiet, people trying to find peace, finding comfort and fear in the silence and the darkness for it was too often torn apart by explosions and screams. His phone vibrated and informed him of a future update about his mission so he went back to the hotel. Whatever it was it couldn't be good, it was better for him to find a safe place, his feet stumbled on an even road and swore under his breath, he was exhausted.

So exhausted he did not see the man scribbling on his notebook at the bar of the hotel. If he had, Geralt would have probably rushed to his room instead of sitting down and asking for a deep, strong cup of coffee. But he did sit and regretted it when the singing voice of no other than Julian Pancratz rang next to him.

“Oh my every gods! Geralt of Rivia! As I live and breathe!” he exclaimed.

“It can be shortened.” muttered Geralt in his steaming cup of coffee but Jaskier just laughed and hopped off his stool to sit closer to Geralt who was trying very hard to glower even more strongly than usual.

“Why I am here you may ask? Well my dear editor Mme De Stael kicked me out of the newsroom. Can you believe it?! Such an ungrateful woman, though very talented. She sent me here to write a story, argued that in a place where no sides were good or bad I couldn't anger any powerful people here.”

Geralt snorted at that. “You can anger people in a bouddhist meditation room.”

Jaskier gasped in mock offense and immediately changed the subject.

“You my dear seem very out of sorts. Coffee this late? Really? This can't be good.”

“Mind your own buisness.” growled Geralt, his phone vibrated once again but he failed to feel it, the sleep making his thought process more difficult and the buzzing of Jaskier's voice distracted him more than enough.

Jaskier was mid-sentence when a sizzling sound caught Geralt's hear, he barely had time to think “Fuck” that a missile exploded in the restaurant area of the hotel. Jaskier was thrown right into the bottle display on the other side of the bar from the explosion. Geraly had ducked a milisecond enough to have landed heavily into the bar itself. His head was pounding but he raised up and ignored the screams of horror and rush of clients out of the hotel to reach Jaskier. The man was barely conscious, a pool of blood forming under his head, his arm was clearly broken and the bottles that fell on his cut him in various place. Mostly it wasn’t worrying if Jaskier could just open his eyes and talk but Geralt feared for a concussion or worse. He tried to focus through the fog of his stressed and exhausted mind and took Jaskier in his arms. His high stature gave me an advantage to clear a path in the crowd; he rushed to the car that had been loaned to him. He looked around to check no heavily injured where in need of help. Seeing no one and hearing Jaskier garble his name, Geralt turned the ignition on and went away.

He reached the Red Cross settlement fast enough but it was overwhelmed with people and a nurse who was checking the severity of the injuries of each newcomer told him it would take too long for them to get to Jaskier.

“I can’t assure you we’ll be able to help him before it’s too late.” Geralt squeezed the journalist’s unmoving body a bit more strongly as he was explained this.

“There’s a rebel hospital further into the city. It’s dangerous but I think it might be your only chance.” She left him quickly to go to the next patient.

Geralt brought Jaskier back to the car and went away. The city was eerily quiet after the last bombing but he kept on his guard and drove slowly, too slowly for his fraying nerves, to avoid attracting unwanted attention. When he reached the rebel hospital, a man stopped him at the door and he had to argue for a bit to get to see a doctor. Inside, everybody stared at him, some holding their children closer to them. In fear of him, he thought. He was led to a somewhat fancier room than the rest of the hospital in front of a woman in what once were white overalls. She motioned him to lay Jaskier on the bed and started to examine him. Geralt settled on a chair in a corner and felt his eyes close from the pure exhaustion of everything and knowing he had reached a safe place for Jaskier.

“I can heal him.” The doctor said and he hummed in agreement. “What can you do for me?” she asked and he opened his eyes suddenly. Striking deep blue eyes, almost purple stared at him with a cunning smile. He frowned and stopped a growl coming from his throat.

“You’re a doctor. Help him.” He barked.

“I will. I just think if I help you, you could help me too.”

“What kind of doctor are you?”

“The kind who wants to help her people. You’re with the U.N troops, you’re an American I guess from your accent, I need information on the opposition, we’re being attacked and we can only do so much to avoid being exterminated.”

“I’m a soldier, I don’t reveal sensible information.”

She rolled her eyes at that.

“I don’t need your secret military nonsense. I need someone who has access to non-censored information. It’s kinda hard to get your hands on a VPN around here.”

He frowned and Jaskier fidgeted on the bed, his hand seemingly seeking something out of thin air. Geralt grumbled and fished out his civilian phone. He erased all personal info and handed it to her.

“Take it, I has VPN and access to internet. The internet plan on it is already payed and expires in 8 months.”

She smiled and pocked the phone, she handed him a pill and some water before going back to Jaskier’s side.

“Sleep now, solider, you need it. Your friend can’t have you unable to move when he wakes.”

He hesitated but her brow rose in challenge. He swallowed the pill and closed his eyes, ignoring the nagging feeling he was failing to protect Jaskier or himself by being so vulnerable.

* * *

The laughter of Ciri was echoed by Jaskier’s. Pavetta invited him to see Ciri for her birthday when she was born and Geralt had not managed to refuse the woman. She had fairly argued that if he wanted her to accept his money, he had to be involved in their lives.

He had called once he had gotten out of the airport to cancel; she refused his explanation and invited Jaskier to come with him. The journalist had still his arm in a sling but was playing with the happy 2 years old baby. Geralt did not belong here, this place was soft and happy, he wasn’t made for smiles and the warmth of people’s affection. He was a man of war, his hands flexed against an invisible weapon and he blinked away memories of battles.

“I’m glad you have Jaskier in your life.” Pavetta said, interrupting his thoughts.

“He is not in my life. Jaskier is, we here happen to meet occasionally. Professional hazard.”

Pavetta snorted.

“You sound like my mother.”

He ignored the jab and turned toward her.

“How are you?” Calanthe had died three months ago and though mother and daughter were opposed politically, they still had cared for each other. Especially after Duny’s death.

She smiled sadly.

“I miss her, isn’t that weird? I’ve opposed my mother on everything but she loved Ciri. It was nice to be a family again. But after Eist’s died she was a shadow of herself, and for the first time in her life she stopped fighting. So the cancer won.”

Geralt was at loss of words and hummed, he saw Jaskier looking at him from the carpet where he was playing with Ciri and Geralt slowly went to take Pavetta’s hand. Jaskier smiled and went back to pretend to fail at the game Ciri was showing him.

“You might not want to admit it. But you act with him just like my mother used to with Eist.”

He stared blankly at her. He had never met the couple but heard many stories from Pavetta and the implication of what she was saying were terrifying. To care so much was just impossible for him. Thankfully his spiralling thoughts were interrupted by his buzzing phone. Fishing it out of his pocket he saw a text from Yennefer. He had first texted her during a sleepless night to thank him for saving Jaskier. It started a thing he wasn’t sure he knew how to stop or wanted to. It was a bad idea though. That he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments. It motivated me so much when I see people actually like what I write. 
> 
> Next chapter is the end of the season 1 parallels and then we get to the new stuff !!
> 
> Have a great day !


	4. Rare Species

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I got a comment, I was happy so I wrote again ! 
> 
> Here is the last chapter from season 1. Next up is only from my imagination

“Your record is impeccable Lieutenant, I was wary of letting your … companion into the base, his work is sanctioned by my superiors but you can understand we do not like civilians in our house, journalist even less.” explained the Major, his voice calm, pausing for effect. Geralt nodded, he had had this conversation in almost all the bases he and Jaskier came into. His recent rank as Lieutenant and his accomplishments helped ease the introductions.

He wasn’t quite sure how he ended being with Jaskier around Europe. He had been kept out of combat after the events almost 2 years ago where his inattention got Jaskier injured. The psychiatrist he had been sent to was not impressed with his attempt to hide and when it failed, downplay his PTSD.

Now he taught in different bases about what he had seen, what he knew. Helped the future elite task teams prepare for missions he was way too used to. Jaskier decided to do a piece “Behind the military.” aiming to showcase the people inside the institution. Most people respected Jaskier’s work, another part knew refusing him access to his subject would only guarantee him to make a lot of noise about their censorship, the last few who had to be convinced, Geralt was pretty sure Jaskier blackmailed them to disclose secret information he was not supposed to know about.

Today though, they were leaving, Geralt had to go to warfare meeting of the UN, his expertise was considered essential to some decisions his superior’s superiors had to make. Jaskier followed along, not even bothering to pretend the meeting would end up in an article or anything.

Geralt had started to get really used to the journalist in his life, he became tuned to how his silhouette looked in a crowd and the noises he would make such as :

“AOUCH! Goddamnit, you brute.”

This succession of words in Jaskier’s mouth were never good news. Sighing deeply, Geralt followed the voices and found Jaskier pinned against a wall in an isolated part of the base, three soldiers, arms crossed and menacing features looming over him, his camera destroyed on the ground.

“Gentlefolk, I do not know what you wish to accomplish here. You destroyed some very expensive equipment which I will have your superiors pay for.”

“We’ve got enough of your pictures! Stop snooping around!” shouted a woman

“If this is about you two kissing.” Started Jaskier, his fingers dancing in front of him to mimic what he must have seen. “I really don’t see the issue. You could have just asked I would have blurred you.”

“Not good enough. Now, you have no pictures.” Said smugly another soldier.

Jaskier gaped in astonishment.

“You morons! All my pictures download in the cloud automatically!”

Geralt saw the three backs tense and one making a movement to start hitting.

“ENOUGH!” he shouted. The three soldiers turned as one, Jaskier looked at him with a satisfied grin and leaned on the wall as if to enjoy a show.

“Step away from the journalist. He is authorised to be and do his work in this base. If you cannot handle one annoying journalist here, you are not ready for active duty.”

The three soldiers nodded and stayed silent. Geralt hmmed in approval of their silence, which was very quickly broken by Jaskier. As always.

* * *

Jaskier had very few enemies. Valdo did not count, because he refused to give that man any importance of the sort. Just because he was a “TV journalist” whom people recognized, did not excuse Valdo pompous attitude. Jaskier worked in true journalism, his work was of the mind !

Anyway, Jaskier had very few enemies, one of two person he’d meet in social meetings and play the longest game of euphemisms of hate, some corrupt politics he’d written about but nothing really personal. Except for Yennefer Vengerberg. Yes she did save him once, but Jaskier had every reason to hate her and most of them were linked to his utter jealousy of the way Geralt looked at her.

It was not even that; for the past two years, Jaskier and Geralt had spent most of days together, travelling and working in the same place and yet, whenever Geralt would get a message from Yennefer he would stop everything, not listen to a word Jaskier was saying and message back. They met a few times since Yennefer got asylum in France and each time, Jaskier would disappear in another city for a few days and come back to find Geralt looking lost and no Yennefer.

Meeting the woman in Berlin for the UN meeting when Jaskier was already agonizing over the fact that his work with the military was done did not help his sentiments toward her.

He wanted to keep travelling with Geralt, he’d made a plan, they could take a break, go south to warmer places, near the ocean even. He knew Geralt had seldom gone to the ocean in his life, having grown in the mountains and working in an army which loved sending him to very sandy dry places.

He had tried to hint such an idea to the man but was promptly interrupted by the look of utter fascination appearing on Geralt’s face which could only mean one thing. Jaskier turned around and bitterly smiled.

“Hello Yennefer.”

“Hello Jaskier, no life threatening wounds today? Still need a big soldier to protect you?”

Jaskier just grimaced at her.

“What are you doing here Yenn?” asked Geralt and truly it broke Jaskier’s heart everytime his voice got so soft saying her name.

“I’m here to talk for my people. I got lucky and got out but most of the rebellion is being killed by the power in place. We need the UN to act.”

Geralt grunted, both approval at the sentiment but knowing how unlikely it would do anything.

“Don’t patronize me Geralt. I’m well aware of my chances of success but I need to try. We both know what it’s like out there.”

She wasn’t openly excluding Jaskier but he knew what she meant. The reason why Geralt was so fascinated by her, she had seen as much horror as him and yet she stood proud and kept on fighting. Jaskier was, by nature a bystander, and none of them truly believed any of his articles changed anything. Or at least not fast enough.

“I well. I’ll leave you too to whatever… I need to meet up with some other journalist about how we’re gonna proceed.”

And he skipped away leaving them alone. Once again.

* * *

For a meeting on war, very few people talked about war. Yennefer realized her audience did not care, would not help and frustration became anger. She stormed out of the room once her time was up and the mediator had smiled all the way through her accusations to the U.N.

She ended in the lobby and saw Geralt talking to a man near the entrance and she walked toward him.

“Hell of a woman Lieutenant! I understand now why you wanted to keep her to yourself.” Geralt had stiffened at his words and Yennefer, having arrived near them asked.

“What do you mean to himself?”

The older man jumped in surprise.

“Dear, I did not see you coming. Did the Lieutenant not tell you? His promotion took some step back about this decision.”

She saw Geralt wanted to stop the man but she now was determined to learn the truth so she told the man to continue.

“He was supposed to spy on you.”, the man snickered at that. “Nothing malevolent, just checking you weren’t a danger, especially since he owed you. But very quickly, a few months in your distant relationship, he declared he couldn’t do it anymore. You were almost cleared by then but still. Pissed his hierarchy !”

The man seemed very amused by this story and left snickering and Yennefer was fuming.

“Is this true?” she seethed at Geralt.

“Yenn.”

“Did you spy on me these first months we talked?”

“Yes.” He admitted.

“Fuck! Nothing is fucking real in this place. Not my name written in the wrong fucking alphabet, not my language, my job. Because I cannot be a doctor in Europe until I’ve proven myself to administrators who never saw a battlefield in their lives ! And you ! You manipulated me !”

“I didn’t. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Shut up ! Do not come near me again! But I doubt life would be so kind to me.”

She shouted and left.

Geralt stood there frozen and did not see Jaskier approaching. He heard him clear his throat and mortification seeped in his bones. Jaskier saw it all, heard it all. So when Jaskier spoke, Geralt did not listen and yelled.

“All of this! Why do you keep bringing such misery to my life!”

Jaskier took a step back. “It’s not fair…”

“I’ve debased myself helping you, saving your life again and again because you cannot stop searching for fame with your articles. Everything in my life since you came into it has been hell.” This was a lie but it fell from his lips and another followed. “If life could give me one blessing it would be to never see you again.”

Jaskier stuttered, looking around to the deserted hallway. “I … See y..” no he couldn’t even say that. “Goodbye.”

Jaskier left, outside, inside the capital. He had a paper to write, about this meeting, he shivered at the idea of revisiting over and over the events of this day. He stopped suddenly, realizing he also had his big piece about the army to publish. His whole life, for almost five years had circled closer and closer to Geralt. And now, he was alone.

Geralt wasn’t sure how he got into his hotel room, he would have to talk about all of this with his psychiatrist and already he was dreading the idea. Exhausted, refusing to think about what happened he fell on the bed and closed his eyes. His phone rang, he wanted to ignore it. He did not want to hear Jaskier, but the phone kept ringing and when he answered it was a woman’s voice explaining Pavetta had died and he was now the guardian of Ciri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it !   
> Please leave kudos and comments. Otherwise I feel very lonely. :(
> 
> I have the rest of the fic planned. I'm just debating the existence of a chapter. It makes the fic longer but it's more angst so... don't hesitate to tell me what you want to see ;)


	5. The wolf and the cub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt learns to live with a 4 year old. And makes a call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I love this story, I have several snippet of story in mind that might end up in codas once I finish the main story. Lots more to come don't worry. ^^
> 
> I just wrote this to avoid thinking about my impeding test so I apologize for any mistakes.

Nothing could have prepared Geralt to the life of a four year old foster parent. He had quickly realized he had nothing on hand to welcome her. His flat was just utilitarian; he rarely stayed more than three months there. He had rushed to take a plane back to the states as soon as he got the phone call. He had called Vesemir before boarding the plane and the man had been waiting for him with a car near the airport.

“I did some shopping. You needed stuff for the kid.” He explained and Geralt had nodded.

“It’s a bad idea. She shouldn’t have chosen me.”

“Boy. The child needs you. So you have 30 hours of insecurity allowed. That’s it. In 30 hours the social service are coming to drop Ciri’s off. You can’t be insecure with her. She needs you. I’ll help, Eskel and Lambert too.” Geralt snorted at the idea Lambert could help. “Don’t act like that. He found a paediatrician near your flat and spend his Sunday swearing while building Ciri’s bed while Eskel was painting the walls.”

Geralt was not one to show emotions but in life changing event, hearing he had people to fall back on lifted some weight off his shoulders. He breathed deeply. Vesemir was right, he had to be Ciri’s rock.

Ciri was shy, she recognized him but had stayed silent. The social service worker had explained he would do impromptu visit for a while. Geralt was no fool, he knew the administrative works got processed so quickly because of Pavetta’s and his connections. He would endure strangers checking he was taking care of the girl if it meant he could make sure she was safe with him now.

“Your father said you found a paediatrician?”

“Yes. Dr Merigold.”

“Oh! Great! We know her, she often works with our services.” The man smiled and left. Geralt silently wondered if Lambert somehow made sure he got a paediatrician the social service would be comfortable with.

* * *

Dr Triss Merigold was all smiles to Ciri and stern indications to Geralt. Not that he cared if the woman liked him or not but he found her coldness a bit surprising. She was great with Ciri and gave him all the information he needed. She even gave him the number of a psychologist for Ciri if she wanted. Geralt took the number, unsure if he would use it. Ciri had terrible nightmares and still didn’t talk much. The only thing that made her smile was visiting Vesemir’s horses. The man had mentioned them in passing one day while visiting and Ciri had gotten closer and closer listening with rapt attention. Geralt had proposed they went to see them on the weekend and the girl had offered him a small but hopeful smile. They went every Saturday now.

“She likes horses.” He blurted to Dr Merigold. “Sorry. It’s just, I thought, if horses can help, I’d rather not force another stranger in her life.” He muttered, not really sure why he was explaining all that to a woman who did not like him but to his surprise Triss smiled at him and said. “That’s a great plan.” He frowned in surprise and her stern face came back, as if she had to make a conscious effort to display it.

Geralt and Ciri had managed a routine of sorts, she settled in her now kindergarden but he still picked her up every lunch to eat at the flat. His superiors had agreed for him to take long holidays that he was long overdue for. Not that dealing with twice the mess of a human was a vacation. It took Ciri a while but almost two months after starting to live in his flat she dropped the one question he didn’t realize he dreaded.

“Can Jaskier come? He played music.” She added, as if Geralt needed a description to identify the man.

“I’ll see. He’s busy you know.” She nodded but looked upset by the news.

That’s how Geralt ended looking at a phone on a Tuesday afternoon, wondering how he could ask Jaskier to come back into his life after throwing him away the way he did. A text would be much easier, more time to rewrite and make sure it was perfect but he knew he had to call. He should have weeks ago. He took a deep breath and dialled the number. Each ring seemed to echo in his chest until a voice answered.

“Hello?” and Geralt realized Jaskier did not have his home line registered.

“Don’t hang up.” He blurted. “Please.” He heard a gasp of breath and for a second it seemed like the journalist would do just that. Write Geralt out of his life, like he had.

“Why?”

“Ciri. She’s… Pavetta died.” Geralt stopped for a second, realizing he didn’t even had time to process his friends death as Jaskier only said a small “Oh please no.”

“She made me Ciri’s guardian and I… I’m trying. I know I don’t deserve to ask you such a thing but Ciri’s asked if you could come see her.”

“You must really love her to be ready to bear my presence in your life again.” Geralt supposed he should have anticipated the bitter tone but he hadn’t and it stung deeper than he thought it would. Before he could answer, Jaskier continued “But I would never let Ciri’s down. I can be at your place Friday evening, does that work for you?”

“Uhm. Yes…”

“Great, see you then.” And he hanged up.

Ciri was so excited to see Jaskier again that Geralt struggled to get her to stand still long enough for him to tie her hair. He had experience with basic hairdos from his own hair but even they required a minimum of stillness. Ciri was wearing her prettiest blue dress and she had made sure Geralt had bought enough snack for ten people. _She loves him_ , he realized when she jumped up at the sound of the bell ringing. Geralt knew she cared for him but he realized Jaskier had a very special place in the girl’s life. He heard the door open and the giggles of delight from Ciri’s as Jaskier was apparently twirling her in his arms. When Geralt arrived in the hallway, Jaskier’s face fell for a bit before Ciri pulled his arms toward the buffet of food and the smile bloomed on the man’s face again.

Geralt had hesitated to leave them alone, feeling very much out of place but Ciri’s had insisted he sat with them. So they spend the afternoon together, just like old times it seemed. Jaskier played some music and listened to all of Ciri’s stories, made her laugh at Geralt’s expanse and the evening ended with the three of them watching her favourite movie. She fell asleep in the middle of it and Geralt scooped her up to get her to bed, she mumbled in her sleep and snuggled against his shirt. Once he got her tucked in he turned around to see Jaskier looking at him and Ciri with a strange look on his face. He closed the door gently and stood awkwardly in his flat with the man who had not directly talked to him the entire day.

“I should go.” Started Jaskier.

“Come again.” Rushed Geralt. Jaskier turned around to face him, his face smiling softly.

“For Ciri, of course.”

Geralt gritted his teeth and forced words out of his mouth.

“You can come when she’s at school too.”

Jaskier frowned. “I don’t see how I can hang out with her if she’s not here Geralt. You need two people or more for that.”

“I’ll be here.” Geralt said, trying to explain and as usual Jaskier understood because his laugh got stuck in his throat and his face fell again.

“I’m sorry Jaskier. I was… an asshole that day. You didn’t deserve any of that. I… miss you.”

He looked at Jaskier hopeful but the man’s next words were brutal.

“No. You can’t do this Geralt. I can’t do this.” And that last bit lost Geralt.

“Do what?”

“I. Goddamnit you know! You. Me. You have to kno….” But Geralt’s face must have clearly shown he had no idea what was being said because Jaskier burst into laughter and then hiccupped as a tear dripped from his eyes. Geralt did not panick… from an exterior point of view.

“You don’t know do you? Fuck. I can’t hang out with you Geralt because it hurts. I’m here because of Ciri and my love for her outweighs the pain I feel about you.”

“I didn’t want that. I’m sorry Jaskier.”

“Hush. Let me finish. You hurt me yes but what you said made me realize I was hurting for a long time. Longing is maybe a better world.” Jaskier leaned again the wall for the next part, needing support. “I love you Geralt, romantically and you don’t even see me like that. I can’t be your friend because it makes me long and yearn and want. And it hurts.”

“Go on a date with me.” Said Geralt and Jaskier gasped.

“I didn’t just pour my feelings out for you to take pity on me. I know you don’t feel the same so spare me…”

“It’s not pity.” Geralt stopped him. “You’re right, I didn’t envision our relationship romantically but I could maybe. I miss you. Give me one date, to see if …”

“If you can take the friendship blinders out?”

Geralt smiled.

“Yes.”

“One date? You’ll know with only one. You won’t string me alone for nothing.”

“One date. If there’s something, I’ll know. If not, I’ll leave you alone.”

Jaskier hesitated, hope blossoming again against his better judgment.

“I have a show in Mexico next week.”

“When you come back then.”

“Ok.” Jaskier tried to stand proud but Geralt utter calm in this insane situation made him want to run to the hills, or climb the man. In a world he was lost.

“I”ll just go then.”

“Good night Jaskier.” Said Geralt in his deep voice and Jaskier did not shiver. He. Did. Not.

One date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are the fuel to my writing. 
> 
> What do you want to see next?


	6. A simple shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt go on a date.

Jaskier did not put too much hope on the night. He had tried several outfits before finding himself silly. This was not a real date, this was a test, a trial. He shook that last thought out of his mind. He was not put on trial, he was giving a chance for Geralt to see if.

If everything could just shift a little. If he could take a step and change who they were to each other.

So Jaskier decided he wasn’t the one who had to prove anything, He put the clothes that made him feel happy and left his house to get to the subway but when he opened the building front door he saw Geralt getting off his bike.

“What are you doing there? We were supposed to meet at the bar. Weren’t we?” he started scrolling back through their messaging to find the proof but Geralt shook his head.

“I know a good place a bit further. I thought a ride would be easier.”

Jaskier looked at him and understood that Geralt was trying. The man was anything if methodical, trained to follow a protocol in every aspect of his job. This was the same, this was a date and as such, he had to take Jaskier for a ride. Someone who didn’t know Geralt well would find him either presumptuous or a player but Jaskier knew better, he understood the man in front of him awkwardly handing him an helmet. And he felt nothing but overwhelming fondness.

* * *

Geralt was acutely aware he had everything to lose this evening. The friendship they had would never be the same. Neither could be asked to change how they were feeling, so Geralt had to see if maybe they felt the same.

The night went along as many nights out usually did. It felt awkward at first but Jaskier seemed much more relaxed than Geralt, smiled, joked and everything felt the same. Which wasn’t good enough, Geralt did not want to lose the man, lose these moments where he could hum syllables and Jaskier would laugh and often rightly interpret what he hummed. They went in a bar Lambert had recommended him, which Geralt would never let him know. It was mostly a bar but you could order some food. The menu was full of small bites of food with different tastes. Jaskier wanted to try them all, so they did.

Jaskier talked about his exhibition show, about Priscilla and Valdo, with affection for the first one and much less for the second. Geralt talked about Ciri, a smile on his lips every time he thought of the girl. He talked about his position away from active conflict and when he looked up from his glass Jaskier was looking at him with a look he couldn’t quite identify. Fondness maybe, but something more which looked a lot like yearning and Geralt’s stomach churned.

He had forgotten this was a date, he was supposed to see if he felt romantically for Jaskier. It wasn’t working. Jaskier must have come to the same conclusion because his eyes turned sad, he got up and patted Geralt’s arm.

“We should go, you’re gonna have a hefty babysitter fee if we stay too late.”

“Eskel is watching Ciri.” He answered automatically.

“Even more so! You don’t want to owe something to your brother do you?”

Jaskier was trying to end the night on a high note, to let them part as friends in the best of circumstance they could. But Geralt was frozen on his stool. People were laughing loudly in the back of the bar, the plate of mini sandwiches was empty, Jaskier had methodically gotten every crumb with his licked finger earlier, their beers were tepid. They should get home but Geralt couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

He looked at Jaskier who was trying to get the waiter’s attention to pay and at that precise moment : Jaskier huffing because the waiter couldn’t spot him, Geralt’s gaze shifted.

His throat felt dry and his heart was beating much faster than usual. Jaskier was wearing one of his flowy linen shirt, the bright light above them casting the man's body in shadows and Geralt found himself wanting to touch. Through years of friendship Jaskier had bestowed many affectionate pats and hugs but Geralt had never done so. He wasn’t an affectionate man, he thought everything through, his upbringing as a foster kid and later in the army taught him to do so. Right that instant, Geralt wanted to feel Jaskier’s skin near him so he just grabbed the arm Jaskier had stretched to hail the waiter and pulled him toward him.

Jaskier grunted at the sudden movement until he realised the position he had ended in. His face was on Geralt’s shoulder, his hand on the man’s chest. Geralt’s hand had left his arm and moved to Jaskier’s back, pushing him ever so lightly toward him. Jaskier let himself me led with incredible care against Geralt’s chest and then he felt Geralt’s hair against his cheek and his neck and suddenly he was hugging Geralt and the man had his cheek against Jaskier’s neck.

His breathing barely working Jaskier leaned toward the neck of the man he loved with all his being and when he felt the soft kiss of lips on his neck he closed his eyes, grasping to Geralt, to the moment with all his might and Geralt did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realizations never happen like in the movies and I wanted to try something more subtle. Hopefully it worked. 
> 
> Next chapter will be evolution of their romantic relationship

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> Please leave kudos. 
> 
> Comments are life. Do you have any idea of how all will unfold in this retelling?


End file.
